John 'Three Galaxies' Watson
by DreamingxInsanity
Summary: John was perfectly happy for everyone to believe that he was an ordinary man. An ordinary man who just happened to be good in bed. Very good in bed. No one needed to know that his dad was immortal, had grown up on another planet and now chased down aliens for a living. That got complicated. (Slight Torchwood crossover, but only contains Jack and references to the show. Johnlock.)
1. Chapter 1

**John "Three Galaxies" Watson**

**Summary:** John was perfectly happy for everyone to believe that he was an ordinary man. An ordinary man who just happened to be good in bed. Very good in bed. No one needed to know that his dad was immortal, had grown up on another planet and now chased down aliens for a living. That got complicated.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Sherlock, Torchwood, Doctor Who or anything related to either of them, that goes to the BBC, the lucky things.

**Author's Note:**In the Torchwood universe, this is set after series two, but before series three. Perhaps a little after the episodes 'The Stolen Earth' and 'Journey's End' in series four of New! Who. In terms of the Sherlock universe, this is set after Hounds, but before Reichenbach. Enjoy.

**Chapter One**

"I get it, John. Really. I knew it wasn't serious from the beginning, you don't have to keep explaining. I made it perfectly clear I was just up for some fun too."

John smiled lightly at the woman, Jenny, sat opposite him in the café where they'd agreed to meet up for lunch and reached over to squeeze her hand, "You're brilliant, d'you know that?"

She laughed with a cheeky grin, tapping the back of his hand with her manicured nails and flicking some of her red hair out of her eyes, "I do, yes. As you've mentioned a fair few times before. Now go back to that handsome man of yours and just give him a good shag. I could feel the need for it practically radiating off of you for the past three weeks."

John glanced away, his jaw clenching a little as his thoughts turned to Sherlock and he sighed inwardly. There was no way he could ever give into that temptation with his best friend, even if said best friend wanted the same in return – not given the consequences of what could happen anyway.

"John, I know that you're not like any other guy I've met, and that's not a line. You know it's not. I've been with you, I've felt what it's like and there's no one on Earth who could possibly make anyone feel just a _fraction_ of that. You shouldn't be scared. Your dear Sherlock should consider himself a lucky man to be on the receiving end of your desires."

Smiling just a little, John looked back to her and leaned over to kiss her cheek, "Thanks, Jenny. That's kind of you to say, but it's so much more complicated than you think. I hope you have a good life, you really _are_ an amazing woman." And with that he was off, heading out of the café and onto the street outside. Zipping up his coat and burying his hands in the pockets he sighed quietly to himself, allowing his thoughts to roam as he walked slowly back to Baker Street.

He hadn't lied at all when he'd told Jenny that it was a lot more complicated. Of course she couldn't tell what he was talking about, nobody could. Well, no one except for a select few that he could count on one hand, and that didn't even include the great Sherlock Holmes. There was a reason as to why he could never be with someone for more than a few weeks and why it could never be serious. There was a reason why people were drawn to him, something that Sherlock didn't seem to notice, and wouldn't ever be able to give a reason for. There was a reason why, in the end, John would always end up alone and that's how it would have to be.

Pulling out his phone he looked through his contacts, searching for a name that he didn't often look for as there was never much reason to try and talk to him. It's not because they didn't get on, it was simply because they knew that they led very different lives and if they needed to get in contact then they would. Once they met up again, every time, it was always just like they'd never spent any time apart. Swallowing down a sudden rush of anxiety, he pressed dial when he'd brought up the contact on his phone, pushing it to his ear as he continued his walk.

Across the country, crossing into another entirely, a phone rang in the Torchwood base of Cardiff. After a couple of rings Captain Jack Harkness reached it and he picked up, the usual charm evident in his voice as he answered, "Hello, Captain Jack Harkness speaking."

John smiled to himself at the familiar voice, which no one could ever forget, as he gave his reply, "Hello dad, it's me."

"Johnny boy! Long time, no speak. How's my handsome little devil?" the man answered as he sat in the chair at his desk, reclining back lazily and resting his feet up on the cluttered surface.

"Been good thanks. Listen, I just... is there any way I could talk to you? In person? I know you don't do this kind of thing, I _know _that, but I need this." John knew it was a big ask to request of his dad, he could remember all the times that he'd tried to have meaningful conversations with the man only for him to laugh it off and distract John with some other amusing reference.

There was silence on the line for a few moments before a quiet reply, something unusual of the outwardly-confident man, came through, "Okay, Johnny. I'll meet you in that little café beside your flat in fifteen minutes. See ya, kid."

Before John had a chance to object at meeting him so close to home, the line went dead and he sighed, stuffing his phone back into his coat pocket. Someone should take that vortex manipulator off him for good, that'd teach him for popping up all over the world whenever he felt like it. There was no way out of this, so he just went with it. Sherlock was out on a case anyway, and Mrs Hudson at her sister's, so it wasn't likely that his _charming_ father would run into them. John really didn't want to know what would happen if he did. When he finally arrived at Baker Street he spotted the figure in a long trench coat, not so different from the one Sherlock wore. He took a deep breath and slowly approached, smiling when he got closer, "Hey."

Jack beamed at him, "C'mere, Johnny, look at you!" He engulfed him in a big hug and held him close whilst John patted his back and hugged him back as best he could. Pulling away, the taller man grinned down at him and took his arm, leading him into Speedy's, "Lookin' good, kiddo. You got someone on the go?"

John stared resolutely forward and shook his head, getting them a table and sitting down, draping his coat on the back of the chair, "I just let someone go today actually. Which is sort of what triggered me wanting to talk to you..." He sent a cautious gaze at his dad as the man sat down, meeting John's gaze with his own careful one. He sighed and glanced away for a moment, looking to the floor.

"I know what you're going to ask. How can you go on living like this, never being able to settle down with someone? How are you supposed to cope without that reassurance that you'll always have someone there? I can't tell you how to live your life, Johnny. Don't have much right to either, going by the amount of time we actually spend together. But I don't want you to do what I've done. I can never get too attached, it just leaves pain in its wake."

"What about Ianto? I thought you had something going with him?"

Sighing, he rubbed a hand over his face before looking back up to John, "That's different. What I've got going with Ianto.. It doesn't matter. This is about you, Johnny. You've still got the chance to find someone whereas I've gone too long without trying. I can't do that, but you can."

John snorted, this time it was his turn to look away, "Yeah, that's going to be a great conversation. Hey, I was thinking about settling down with you, but oh right, I forgot to mention that by doing so you'll get to live hundreds of years longer than other people and you'll age slower, just like me! So what do you say?"

Looking a little hurt, Jack reached over to pat John's hand, "I'm sorry, Johnny. I'd give you a normal life if I could, but I can't. Just be grateful that you're not immortal like me."

"Immortal?_ That's_ what seemed so odd about you." Both men turned to stare up at Sherlock who had just then appeared at their table, looming over the both of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**John "Three Galaxies" Watson**

**Summary:** John was perfectly happy for everyone to believe that he was an ordinary man. An ordinary man who just happened to be good in bed. Very good in bed. No one needed to know that his dad was immortal, had grown up on another planet and now chased down aliens for a living. That got complicated.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Sherlock, Torchwood, Doctor Who or anything related to either of them, that goes to the BBC, the lucky things.

**Author's Note:**I'd just like to thank you all for how much attention this fic received just on the first chapter! It means a great deal that this little idea could be appreciated by so many :) I'll reply to two anonymous reviews I got at the end of this chapter so you can all get on to reading!

**Chapter Two**

"He didn't mean immortal _literally_, Sherlock. Obviously." Sherlock pursed his lips at John, not liking being made to look like a fool. Of course he knew he didn't mean it literally. The consulting detective then stared hard at Jack's hand which was placed atop John's and the ex-army doctor raised an eyebrow at the look on his face, trying to hide the horror that had dawned on him at Sherlock having heard part of their conversation and just, well, _being_ here to see them together.

John cleared his throat pointedly at Jack and the man moved his hand away, instead standing and giving his most charming grin, extending the other hand out to Sherlock, "Hello, Captain Jack Harkness. And who might you be?" Sherlock stood rooted to the spot, his lips parting a little as Jack stood before him. There was something about the man that just seemed to draw him in, no matter how much he tried to resist it – what on earth was going on?

John closed his eyes for a moment in frustration at how his dad really didn't stop and he stood, frowning at Jack as he moved between them, his back to Sherlock, "This is Sherlock Holmes, my best friend and flatmate. _Stop_. _Flirting_."

Smirking at John, Jack then turned his gaze back to Sherlock, running his eyes up and down his body on purpose, "Best friend _and_ flatmate, hmm? You sure know how to pick 'em, Johnny." Sherlock blushed under the man's not-so-subtle gaze and looked to the back of John's head, desperate for an answer.

John turned to him then and stood back a bit, moving to stand next to Jack. He gestured at him with a wave of his hand, "Sherlock, this is Jack Harkness... A friend of mine." Sherlock raised an eyebrow at that, glancing between them curiously.

"A friend? John, _we_ are friends and I don't see you trying to hold my hand. The body language between the two of you suggests something else." He turned a calculating gaze on the, admittedly handsome, man and analysed what he saw. Definitely not just a friend, but not a lover either. Besides, he knew that John wouldn't be so public with a relationship of that nature with another man, what with the denial of his not-quite-so-straight sexuality. Or so Sherlock thought.

Jack grinned, watching Sherlock back the whole time, then glanced at John, "Johnny boy, you've really got something here, haven't you? He's definitely worth keeping."

John closed his eyes and took a deep breath, about to correct him when Sherlock cut in, "Johnny boy? Odd name to call your friend too." His eyes then widened as he made a few connections between the two men appearance-wise and then he smirked in satisfaction, "You're related to each other. I _knew_ you weren't just friends."

John didn't know what to say at that, couldn't exactly hide it from Sherlock now that he'd started to figure it out for himself. Instead Jack grinned, a twinkle in his eye, "Oh, he really _is _good."

Something still didn't seem right to Sherlock, his calculating stare shifting between the two men, noting John's nervousness. There was too much of a resemblance there, suggesting that they were immediate family. Perhaps a brother? No, that didn't seem right. Besides, when they'd first met John would have mentioned a brother and he dismissed the idea, correcting Sherlock by telling him about Harriet. Couldn't possibly be his father, there was such a slim age gap between them. And yet, there was something about Jack that seemed a lot older than he looked. Then again, he could say the same about John in some ways.

John watched Sherlock carefully and then cleared his throat and looked to the man beside him, "Right, well I suppose you'd best get going, Jack. It was nice to see you again."

Grinning, Jack glanced at John, then turned to him, "What, leave before you let your old dad get to know your best friend more? I don't think so, Johnny."

Eyes narrowing, Sherlock looked between them over and over again as John's eyes widened and he swatted Jack's arm, turning bright red. Seemingly, Sherlock's suspicions had been confirmed, "He's your father? That's.. impossible. There can't be more than a few years between you. However.. the resemblance really is uncanny now that I take a proper look at you."

John sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head, "Can we not do this here? I'll not have our lives turned into some kind of public spectacle. Upstairs, the both of you. Now."

Jack threw a smirk over his shoulder at John as he headed to the door, "Are you sure you want to direct that command at me too? I'm pretty sure you won't want me intruding on your so _clearly_ desired special time with your gorgeous flatmate here."

Flushing bright red Sherlock huffed and shoved past the man out of the door, heading to the flat next door. John shot a glare at his father and shook his head, taking his arm to steer him out, "You're on very thin ice, dad. Put one more foot wrong and it'll break."

"What? You've never had a problem with getting whoever you wanted into bed before, what's so different this time?" Jack asked with an innocent look on his face, following him up into the flat.

Pulling Jack closer, he muttered, "Sherlock's not like anyone else that I've wanted, okay? He's my best friend and I don't want to ruin that just because I couldn't keep it in my trousers. In case you don't remember, I happened to inherit a few things from you that aren't quite normal. Once I've gone there, I can't take it back. The people I've been with know I'm different right from the first go."

Deciding not to argue this with him once they reached the living room, Jack just nodded with a resigned look on his face and he took a look around the room, a small smile on his face, "Nice place you've both got here. Comfy looking."

John took a seat on the sofa, sitting on the edge with his hands folded together between his knees. He cleared his throat and nodded at the space beside him and Jack silently got the cue, going to sit next to him and they both looked up at Sherlock who gazed back at them expectantly, "Well? I want an explanation."

"Right.. Well, Jack _is _my dad. One hundred percent. The family I've told you about before, they're distant relatives, but I just call them my aunt and uncle. Same with Harry, I just refer to her as my sister because she's been quite a good sibling figure to me over these last thirty years or so. My mother..." John took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment as he let the grief wash over him and then he opened them again, not daring to look at the man beside him who he was sure would not let any emotions appear on his face – if he was even still affected by the mention of her at all. "My mother is dead."

Sensing John's difficulty and knowing part of all of this, hell, a lot of it was his own fault for being so reckless years and years before, Jack patted John's knee before continuing, "Johnny's mother, Helen Watson, died around a hundred or so years ago." Here Jack sent Sherlock a serious, no messing about look and carried on before he could interrupt, "I really wasn't joking when I said I was immortal back there in the café. I wasn't born like that, I'm technically only human after all. But things got complicated, you wouldn't begin to understand. Eternal life was given to me whilst I was travelling with friends, fighting a war. But Helen was just like you, completely mortal. Johnny here's not immortal. He'll die at some point, and I'm glad for it because I wouldn't wish my life on him, not even on my worst enemy. But this isn't about me, it's about him. He's older than he looks, Sherlock. Much older. He'll always age this slowly and he'll live a hell of a lot longer than other people. There are other things you need to know, but it's not my place to say."

Sherlock blinked a few times, his mind racing to take in everything he'd just heard and it was as if he was mentally hibernating in order to sift through his mind palace, making new rooms and rearranging existing ones. After a few moments his eyes cleared and he looked to John, "I don't... How is this possible? You're just.. you."

Snorting, John smirked humourlessly and glanced down at the floor, "Yeah, I figured you'd see it that way." Sighing, he reached up to grab the dog tags he wore every single day without fail, except from when he was in bed with someone and even then he'd put them back on right afterwards. Undoing them and taking them off over his head, he held them in his lap, tilting his head up to Sherlock with an expectant look in his eyes.

Sherlock felt the shift immediately; his heart began pounding in his chest, his breathing elevated dramatically and both John and Jack could notice his pupils had dilated significantly so that his eyes were practically black at this point. He clenched his wrists at his sides, a low rumble vibrating in his throat as the effect of John's pheromones reached him and he swallowed with some difficulty, "J-John... what's going.. nggh.."

John hated that he had to do this to get Sherlock to understand, but really it was the only way. Jack, on the other hand, would have normally been proud of what his son could do to people, but he was slowly learning that John had began to not like what he could do as much and wanted to be able to be with people like normal. Sighing he squeezed John's knee and then put the dog tags over his head again, which left Sherlock gasping and blinking furiously as if he'd just emerged from a daze. He blushed with a frown when he glanced down at the rapidly forming tent in the front of his trousers, then aimed the glare at the two men on the sofa, "Explain this. I haven't had an erection since I was twenty."

**Author's Note:** Okay, so I hope you enjoyed that chapter and there's more to come :) Now to reply to the two anonymous reviews I got:

First one – kind of just said "ness" so I'm wondering whether whoever wrote it meant to say something else, but there was a technical error? I'm not sure.

Second - "I wonder how John would react when he finds out his dad's going to be a big  
head in a jar." Yes, I wonder too. Luckily I don't think he'll live that long to see it happen, so he'll be spared the opportunity to have to react, haha.

I'd also like to thank Dizzybunny for their review too, I hope you got my reply! And that's all everyone, keep a look out for the next chapter :)

DxI


	3. Chapter 3

**John "Three Galaxies" Watson**

**Summary:** John was perfectly happy for everyone to believe that he was an ordinary man. An ordinary man who just happened to be good in bed. Very good in bed. No one needed to know that his dad was immortal, had grown up on another planet and now chased down aliens for a living. That got complicated.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Sherlock, Torchwood, Doctor Who or anything related to either of them, that goes to the BBC, the lucky things.

**Author's Note:**Again, I'd really like to thank everyone for their interest in this fic! The response is quite overwhelming and I feel so proud of my humble little idea here. I changed a tiny little line in the last chapter about John's "aunt and uncle" parents because I realised they wouldn't be alive still if that's who they really were, haha. Sorry for that little mix-up! Oh, I'm also sorry if anyone is new to Doctor Who and/or Torchwood here and they read the little spoiler in a review someone gave that I responded to last chapter... Once again, responses to anonymous reviews will be at the end. Enjoy! :)

**Chapter Three**

Whilst Sherlock stood there downright horrified and red in the face, it was hard to tell out of the two other men who was the most shocked. Jack had never heard of such a thing, being the extremely sexual creature that he was. John, however, just couldn't see it because he saw Sherlock as some kind of thing to be worshipped. There was no way that since he was twenty the consulting detective hadn't had some sort of sexual encounter, loads of people found him attractive. Sure, John had inherited his over-active sex drive from his father, but he'd seen others' reactions to the man when on a stakeout or even in the few rare times he'd come with John to the shops. There was no way that his own viewpoint was biased when he'd gathered enough data to tell that he wasn't the only one who found that man incredibly sexy.

Jack smirked, his expression full of the glee he was unable to contain, "That's the effects of Johnny here's... pheromones, if that's what you want to call them. Happens to everyone. Let's just say we've done a lot of.. experimenting and no one has ever been able to resist."

Sherlock's face reddened and he grabbed one of the cushions from John's chair, sitting in his own and placing it strategically in his lap. He scowled down at his feet, uncomfortable with the whole situation. Not just because of his current predicament, but also because he didn't completely understand what was going on and he didn't like not knowing. Sighing, he looked up, "So let me get the facts straight. Jack, you're human, but immortal, and you happen to, for some reason, have an increased level of pheromones which you have appeared to have passed on to John. Helen Watson, John's biological mother, was human and mortal, but is now," he paused, glancing at John and choosing his words carefully, "not with us. And you say she passed around a hundred years ago? That would mean John is at least a hundred years old."

John flinched a little at that, wondering whether Sherlock would find it more than a little odd. Honestly it wasn't the most odd thing about the situation, not with an immortal man sat there with them in the room, but this was personal – Sherlock was his best friend, his opinion was extremely important to him. The ex-army doctor did, however, feel that there was more to say, "My exact age is a hundred and thirty. Just so you know. And these," he held up the dog tags now back around his neck, "are perception filters. They make it so that you can sort of hide something just out of the way. So when people see me, they'll know there's something not quite right about me, but they'd never figure out exactly what it was. And obviously it holds back the full effect of the.. pheromones. Sorry, by the way. It was the only way to let you see."

Sherlock huffed out a breath of frustration, looking back up at the both of them, "How have you not been found out? Living for a hundred and thirty years, it's not possible with the government watching what everyone does. They would have locked you up in a lab and performed every known test on you by now if they knew about you."

This was where everything got complicated for them. John was no stranger to the concept of time travel; Jack had told him of his adventures with the Doctor and had often wished that he'd be able to one day meet the man, or Time Lord, for himself. It's not like he could dismiss the existence of such a being when he himself defied the laws of nature in such a way. Human nature, that is. Jack had used the vortex manipulator at certain times throughout John's life in order to take him away from society to other times and places. It was because he'd said that people would find it odd that John was not ageing like other people and they might get suspicious. He'd also used it so John could go back and see his mother every now and then, but it got harder each time, partly because she wasn't happy with not being able to see her son all the time and also because Jack was so busy and the Doctor often confiscated the vortex manipulator. John gazed steadily back at Sherlock, taking a deep breath, "I've never stayed in one place for very long. Dad never allowed it, said that people would think it strange that I looked five years old even when I was ten or whatever. We've moved from place to place, time period to time period."

That threw Sherlock even more. Time periods? The way in which John used those words suggested that he didn't just mean in the last hundred years. His gaze turned curious, and he found himself forgetting about the problem between his legs for the moment, "Time period to time period? I suppose you mean all throughout time and not just within the time that you were born to now."

John smiled, once again revelling at Sherlock's brilliance. He never failed to astonish him with how clever he was and how fast he could catch up with things that weren't exactly his area. He nodded slowly, "Dad has this thing called a vortex manipulator. It can travel time and space, but he's had it confiscated by.. higher orders quite often because apparently it does damage to the fabric of reality or something. But anyway, he's used the manipulator to take me to different times and places before so that people wouldn't start figuring out that something was up with me. Then when I got old enough, for a reason which he still hasn't told me yet, he dropped me here, in London, in the 21st century. I went to war in Afghanistan, got shot, came back, met you and here we are now."

Nodding, Sherlock took all of this new information in. He couldn't quite get his head around everything just yet, but he believed John. When he'd taken off his dog tags not only had his "problem" occurred, but he'd seen something different about John which made sense with what the man was telling him. Jack, however, looked a little uncomfortable ever since John had mentioned not being told why he'd left him in the 21st century. The fact was that he didn't want to tell his son the reason. It wasn't that it was unpleasant, far from it from what he'd heard so far today, but he didn't want to interfere with things. If what was supposed to happen did, then he'd tell him. Taking a deep breath, Jack finally stood and stuck a hand out towards Sherlock, who stood and shook it, "Pleasure to meet you, Sherlock Holmes. Take care of Johnny here.. Although, I'm sure he'll be the one taking care of you."

Spluttering a little and refusing to look at John, Sherlock gave the man a tight-lipped smile and stood back after a while, "Good to meet you too."

John just shook his head with a sigh, pulling Jack around to give him a hug. Holding him close for a moment, he muttered in his ear, "If he makes me move out now, it's all your fault and you'll be responsible for finding me a new place."

Grinning and pressing a kiss to John's forehead he pulled back and headed to the door, "I think you'll be just fine, Johnny. Don't get into too much trouble, alright? And remember I'm only a call away."

With that he was gone, heading down the stairs and outside. John heard the familiar sound of the vortex manipulator transporting Jack away, most likely back to Cardiff, and he let out a breath of relief, flopping down onto the sofa. If he'd known this morning that his best friend and flatmate would be told that same day all of John's deepest secrets then he wouldn't have gotten out of bed because this was completely exhausting. Embarrassing too, especially embarrassing. Speaking of embarrassing... He lifted his head and noticed Sherlock was watching him with an odd expression on his face. John sat up and smiled hesitantly, "I really am sorry about all of that. It's a lot to take in all in a day. And don't think anything of the," he paused, gesturing to Sherlock's crotch, "you know. It happens to everyone, doesn't change anything between us. Okay?"

Not waiting for an answer John got up and headed through to the kitchen, sticking the kettle on and grabbing two cups from the cupboard. He set to putting everything together in the cups when he was startled by a hesitant touch on his shoulder. Turning, John saw Sherlock there behind him, leaning against the kitchen table with his arms crossed. His erection had only just barely gone down, but he still looked a little ruffled. However, he was the one to speak first, "John, I don't care about any of that. You're still the same person. Well, mostly. What I _do_ care about is what all of this means for us. When you took off those dog tags, I didn't just... get an erection. I came to some realisations about a few things."

Setting down the spoon he'd previously been holding, John properly turned to face him, his hands clutching the counter top behind him. He really hoped that Sherlock hadn't found something about John's revelations that he didn't like. Licking his lips anxiously, he looked straight at him, "And what might those be?"

**Author's Note:** Dun-dun-duuuuun. All I can say is that the rating of this fic will be moving up to an M pretty soon and that's all I'll say on the matter. On to the anonymous reviews!

First - "Poor John..." Yes, poor John indeed. Although I think things may be looking up for him.

Second - "Like it a ton" Thanks very much!

Third - "Lol! XD Sherlock at the end of chapter 2! They gonna get some!" Haha yes, quite a predicament for Sherlock, hmm? And we shall see... Heh.


	4. Chapter 4

**John "Three Galaxies" Watson**

**Summary:** John was perfectly happy for everyone to believe that he was an ordinary man. An ordinary man who just happened to be good in bed. Very good in bed. No one needed to know that his dad was immortal, had grown up on another planet and now chased down aliens for a living. That got complicated.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Sherlock, Torchwood, Doctor Who or anything related to either of them, that goes to the BBC, the lucky things.

**Author's Note:**I'm so, sosorry for the EXTREMELY long delay this time, I've had lots of college exams to study for and loads of stuff like that. But I am still completely overwhelmed by the support this fic is getting, thank you everyone!

**Chapter Four**

"I.." Looking down, seemingly as if he'd lost the courage to say what he'd started, Sherlock sighed, "It's nothing. I'll be in my room." With that he turned as if to walk away.

John, however, had already seen and heard enough to be curious, and when did he ever get the opportunity to see Sherlock like this? So open, so.. vulnerable? Yes, that's definitely what he'd seen in his eyes for a few moments before he cast his gaze downwards. This was something John wouldn't let go. Reaching a hand out, he kept Sherlock in place and turned him back around again, "No, Sherlock, let me hear what you have to say. This isn't like you, if you were going to tell me something you'd usually just go ahead with it. This is different, I can tell." John really hoped that Sherlock wasn't going to try and find a way to subtly ask John to leave because of the day's events.

Jaw clenching, Sherlock gently removed himself from John's grasp and the shorter man tried not to be hurt at the gesture, but somehow failed. Swallowing a little, Sherlock looked up and stepped back to put a few feet between them, "John, I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to say. I _want_ to say something, but I'm not absolutely certain it's the right thing to tell you. If I'm wrong then I'll ruin things and I don't want that. What we have here.. it's good, it really is." He took a deep breath and then continued, "It's obvious that if you were to ever choose a partner, and that's in the romantic sense, then it would have to be someone who meant a great deal to you, what with you living so long. They'd have to be worth the risk of only living with for as long as they live and then carrying on once they'd died."

Seeing that Sherlock had apparently finished his speech, John blinked a few times as he stared with a blank expression at the man's face. None of that had made a single lick of sense in his mind and he had no clue how to respond. Frowning as he thought of a suitable reply, John flexed his hands on the counter top behind him, "What exactly are you trying to say, Sherlock? Everything you just said doesn't link up."

Sherlock slowly rolled his eyes as if this were the most arduous task he'd had to endure in his life, which it sort of was in his own opinion. He moved to sit at the table, crossing his legs at the ankles and knitting his hands together in his lap. The position implied that he was relatively calm whereas there was absolute chaos going on in his mind – organised chaos, of course. Tilting his head up to keep his gaze locked with John's he licked his top lip for a margin of a second then spoke again, "Oh, everything I said makes perfect sense, John. You see, what I want to tell you is that my... _feelings_ for you went beyond being platonic a long time ago. However, I'm certain that I can keep them out of the way in order for us to continue on as we were without difficulty and resume the natural order of our lives." He gave a tight-lipped smile before looking away, deeming the conversation to be over with.

John, on the other hand, had more to say on the matter. How could Sherlock just dismiss the things he'd said so easily and think that John would let it all go? He obviously didn't know John so well on this subject at all, but then why would he? Slowly John came to sit at the table next to him, turning his whole body to face him, "Sherlock, are you... are you sure? I didn't know that you felt like this for anyone. Well... not sure about the whole Irene thing," he murmured.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at that, "Everyone assumes that my relationship with The Woman was romantic or _physical_ when I was just purely interested in her intellect. Think of her as being just another criminal mind that I was fascinated with to study and dissect. Nothing more." John raised an eyebrow at him but nodded, accepting his words to be the truth. There was no reason for Sherlock to lie about something like that. Surely that meant there was no reason for him to lie about his feelings for John too. The ex-army doctor looked away for a moment, steeling himself. Sherlock was the one that he'd choose to spend the rest of his life with, he'd choose him within a heartbeat, there was no debate about that. But he needed the consulting detective to understand all that came with being with John, needed him to be sure that he knew what he was getting into. Hell, he'd give him all the time in the world to make his decision if he needed to.

"Sherlock, I need to tell you something. You're wrong. For once, you're _really_ wrong. If I choose to spend my life with someone, in a romantic and physical sense, then they'll live just as long as I will. If I'm with someone physically for more than a few weeks, my pheromones will start having such an effect on them so that they start ageing slower too, just like me. That's why I've never had a really long relationship with anyone more than just friends. I thought you'd have noticed the pattern by now."

"Well.." Sherlock looked a little confused and out of place, his eyes searching John's face, "I had noticed, but things like that didn't really occur to me to be strange. When I attended university and I had sexual partners, they only held my interest for a few weeks and then I'd move on..."

John smirked a bit and shuffled closer, his hands resting on his own knees. He took a moment to choose his next words carefully, "That's all fine when you're that young, Sherlock, but normal people tend to try and have longer relationships when they get to my age. But nevermind that. What I needed to say, apart from that, is.. well, if I were to choose anyone that I'd want to spend all of my years with, however many more hundreds of them I get, it'd be you. I'm not just saying that, and I'm not joking. If you've learnt anything about me in the time we've been living together, you should know that I don't mess around with people's feelings. I have too much at stake to do that." He moved his hands to rest them on top of Sherlock's, "So what do you say to that?"

Sherlock was completely at a loss. He'd initially resented himself for these _feelings_ that he'd developed for his flatmate, they were so pitiful. Upon seeing that he had no other choice but to just try and ignore them, that's what he'd resigned himself to. But when he saw that they were only getting stronger and were looking like they weren't going away any time soon, he knew he needed to tell John. Of course he expected his friend to just politely reject him, but say that it was okay, they could still go on living together. What was happening now was the _last_ thing he expected. He watched John with a look of utmost concentration, focusing all of his brain power on their current predicament, "So I'd start ageing much slower like you and we'd live for hundreds of years? I... excuse me for being a little more than dumbstruck, John, but no one has ever shown any wishes in wanting to commit themselves to me for so long. However... if it's _truly _what you want then I'd be more than happy to do this with you."

"Excellent," John murmured with a grin, leaning in closer and twining his fingers with the taller man's, "You should know, however, that the slowing down of our ageing won't actually come into being until we've been together _physically _for more than a few weeks. But I suppose you did know that, so.. you're okay with that too?"

"Obviously," Sherlock replied, smirking a little and glancing down at their hands, "I was hoping you'd suggest that we get on with starting this physical relationship right away, but obviously I'm going to have to initiate it." With that he closed the tantalising gap between them, their lips meeting and melding together instantly.


End file.
